Just Hangin' Around
by Thrae Elddim
Summary: As Maedhros hangs by his wrist from the tower of Angband, he finally stops to think. Also, his search for a surface to write on. I don't own Maedhros or The Silmarillion, only Gaerel.


"Hanging In There"

Angst/Humour

Silmarillion

Maedhros

As Maedhros hangs by his wrist from the tower of Angband, he finally stops to think. About his family, his oath and his heart.

Maedhros felt another bolt of pain shoot up- err, down- his arm. He was hanging by it from the [at least] 5000 foot tall pinnacle of Angband, so everything was a little confuzzling at the moment.

Fair face set in an expression of grim agony as was becoming the usual, a fire kindled in Maedhros' dark eyes. He was thinking of how he ended up this way, disgraced and being used as a welcome home banner for the dark forces.

Rashly, the Elf had sworn the same oath as his father, gone to barter with Morgoth, made his dwelling on an indefensible hill and killed droves of Elves at Alqualonde among many other things. All were very bad choices, he now privately admitted.

The only good things about his precarious situation were that Gaerel wasn't there (I'm hanging above the frakking gates for Elbereth's sake! I would know!') and there was plenty of time to think. If one could hear their thoughts over the screaming of their raw nerve endings and muscles that is.

'Too bad I can't write this down,' thought Maedhros drolly, a masochistic type of humour coming into play now 'Why did he have to chain me up by my dominant hand? WHY?' The Feanorian grinned a bit when he realized something: he was hanging out in the open air and the nearest solid [possible and verticle] writing surface was about 5 feet away.

'Too bad I can't stretch and shrink at will like Celegrom's ego,' Maedhros mentally sighed 'Then half my troubles would be over. And at times I'd be taller than the damned mountains!'

"Then who'd challenge me, huh?" the eldest Feanorian asked weakly, voice scratchy from disuse but for screaming and sobbing his aching heart away. "ANSWER ME YOU BASTARD!" Maedhros roared in the general direction of the wall but no one and nothing in particular. He thrashed wildly in his band, fury blazing in his heart.

A stronger spurt of pain made him settle down again and wince, hissing. 'Gods dammit,' he thought, head spinning in a much worse version of drunkenness 'If only I was just drunk…'

But that was Amrod and Amras' area of accomplishment. They were the ones able to balance being able to see the pretty swirls of colour but still not making complete fools of themselves. It was one of the few things that Maedhros the Arbeleg (High-and-mighty, a nickname from Caranthir. 'That evil little asshole,' accused Maedhros dryly) had never managed to accomplish. Either he was never drunk enough, the sad usual, or he was far too drunk.

Of all the Feanorians, the eldest thought himself the most reasonable however. It didn't hurt that he was of an impressive height (6'4 ½" last he checked) and rather… fair. Yeah, let's leave it at that.

Maglor was the singer, with the fairest voice heard over land and sea. Usually he was used as the distraction when necessary, not even realizing what he was distracting people from more often than not. 'I have the biggest airhead in Arda for a brother,' Maedhros mourned 'And knowing Fate and Destiny like I do, he'll live the longest because he's so dim…'

Celegorm was the fairest of the seven brothers and their father. That gave him a large ego and made him a headache waiting to happen, especially around dark Caranthir.

He was the darkest, most twisted one in the entire large family. Fortunately (or not), the sadistic Elf was a very good actor. He could be doing something good for the people of Arda while plotting something horrid and nobody would know! Only Celegorm could ever see through him.

'We're kinda doomed there I guess,' Maedhros decided, but shrugged it off 'Unless they're into each other. What a thought… Like Amrod, and Amras. Or me and Maglor. Or Curufin.' He resisted the urge to shudder; it would have hurt his arm even more.

Curufin was the loner, always in his workshop with a project. He had begotten a son on some woman, probably Elentari, but with all that he worked Maedhros didn't see how. The poor lass was hopelessly in love with him, but he only thought of her as a close friend with benefits.

'Idiot,' thought Maedhros 'Couldn't see love if it danced naked in front of him. Can't see her feelings at all and those do dance naked, in her eyes.' He hoped that while he was gone the man realized he was missing out on a very good thing.

Amrod and Amras had no such troubles, seeing as the latter was dead. He had been asleep on one of the ships when they had been burned at Losgar. Nobody had known, and so he was burned to death.

That was the day that Amrod's heart had died, it seemed to the other Feanorians. He was a wraith of his former self, unreasonable and murderous in anger but otherwise quiet with grief.

Maedhros felt that Amras was all the luckier for being deceased. He did not suffer the torment that the others did, struggling to fulfill their oath. And his tendons surely weren't ripping from trying to support his entire body's weight with one arm.

Screams and wails reached his ears from over 5000 feet below on the ground. More slaves were being brought in to labour the dark mines, it seemed. Some would not be worked to the death but tortured, and it was those that Maedhros pitied the most. Now he felt lucky.

'Is anybody looking after my gerbils?' the thought interrupted his brooding suddenly.

The little creatures had been Amrod and Amras' pets, but after the younger twin's death the elder couldn't bear to look at poor Fuzzy and Furry. So they had been pushed on Maedhros; Maglor was too irresponsible and nobody else was willing to take them.

'And what about Fluffy?'

What was possibly happening to the overfed ferret was horrifying as almost nothing else. He could be abandoned, starving, forgotten, or even dead!

Hopefully Gaerel was taking care of them and herself. She had a caring heart for all but the servants of Morgoth; to them she was as fierce as any descendant of Finwe.

Maedhros remembered the first time they met. He had thought she was one of the queens of the Valar, Varda or perhaps Yavanna, for the soft glimmering of her raiment and golden hair had guided his ship safely out of dangerous waters when he was lost at sea in his youth. It was then that he had given her the name of Gaerel, the sea-star.

Ever after Maedhros had sought her out, learning all he could of and from her. Everything he listened to and watched eagerly, and they formed a close comradie. They parted very seldom but when she visited Mandos' halls, where no living Elf may enter and leave of their own will. When the Feanorians had rebelled against her lords, she had defeated Maedhros at Alqualonde yet followed him into exile. She had told him much later that it was to keep him from fighting with Caranthir overmuch, yet she had smiled and stroked his dark hair soothingly as he laid injured from her.

In her face the light of Aman still shone despite her defection and blue eyes like the horizon at noon, full of wisdom, foresight and the scars of war shone into his dark, farsighted ones. Golden and long waves of her hair blew gently onto Maedhros' face, the colour of Laurelin's fruits.

The Elves had a fascination with hair. Those such as Idril "Celebrindal" and Nerwen "Galadriel" were the topics of many conversations with their gold-and-silver hair so envied by others.

In that respect and barely any others was Maedhros normal. His raven-dark locks shone in braids but was the average Noldorin colour, length, etcetera for that age and time.

Just as Feanor's. Elbereth his father confused him! First he asked for Fingon's help, then left his party on the Helcaraxe to either die in the crossing or go sniveling back to Valinor. Among those was Gaerel, as she had refused to leave Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower and Ecthelion of the Fountain. Most of Fingon's people had survived despite hard losses, to his delight including those three.

A WRITING SURFACE! But then Maedhros laughed, and laughed, and laughed until he cried: he had no paper, nor ink. And thus he was doomed to hang from the top of Angband… in boredom.


End file.
